Child Abuse Story From Shelly:

My abuse was pretty much all over the place. It's kind of odd that my abuse was not just by one individual, but several people. I was around 3 when I was abused the first time.

My mother and father divorced when I was very young, so my mother took on long hours at her job to be able to provide for our family. She had to send us to this crazy daycare where, when the day was over, I was instructed to sit behind the man's chair until my mother arrived. I was to be very quiet. They had an 18-year-old son. He was there one day alone with me. There was some poop on the floor--I don't know why--and he made me eat it. I cried and cried. That's all I remember about that. My mom took me somewhere else after that.

Then my mother met this man, whose real name was Lester (we now call him Lester the molester), but he introduced himself as Jim. My mother seemed blissfully happy with him and everything was fine.

One day, Lester took me to the store with him alone. It was around the 4th of July. I asked if my brother and I could have some sparklers. He said yes, if I would let him touch me in my private area. I was sick to my stomach. He tried to touch me anyway. Luckily, my shorts were too tight (I was only 5 years old).

Lester would always take me to "the store" with him. If I complained that I didn't want to go, my mother thought I was being a brat. I was scared to tell her what he was doing, because he was a very muscular man and had threatened on several occasions to kill the family if I ever said anything.

There were other kinds of abuse too. My brother and I were whipped every chance they got. Our little legs would have bruises and welts all over them from the severe beatings we would receive.

Things started getting worse. Lester no longer took me to the store with him. He would wait until my mother took a shower and would come into my room and touch me while masturbating.

When I was in the third grade, I was taking a bath and he was using the bathroom. He came over and said, "Hey, why don't you touch it." I just coward in the water, hoping my mom would walk in and make it all go away. It continued into my early teens. By this time, I had started my period and was developing breasts. The "visits" were becoming less frequent. I was hoping it would stop and we could be a real family. Every time I thought, maybe this time he will stop, it would happen again.

The last straw for me was when I was 13. I had my period. I was sleeping (that's when he would always come in) and he touched my privates. I would always wake up, pretend I was still asleep, and roll over to a point where he couldn't reach me. I was afraid of what he would do to me if he knew I was awake. So the next day, I called my mother and told her what happened. She was sooooooo angry at him.

Lester stayed. I was instructed to never tell anyone. He was never allowed to be alone with me. My mother stopped taking baths at night. They finally separated one year later. My mother proceeded to tell everyone in the family what had happened. I felt humiliated. I really didn't want anyone to know.

Then my mother started drinking. She would leave me alone with my brother, who was 2 years younger than me, and my 17-year-old boyfriend. I was 14 years old. I lost my virginity to that boyfriend. I needed my mother the most at that point, but she really had abandoned my brother and I. She blamed herself for what happened with Lester, and she hated me because I didn't tell anyone. She didn't tell anyone that he was abusing her either.

My mother sent my brother to live with my dad. Then we moved to a different town. Her relationship with my brother was never the same. She would drink and drink and blame me for everything. Her lies about everything made the family believe I was on drugs (I have never done drugs). She would come on to my boyfriends; she slept with one of them.

I came to realize just recently, how volatile a relationship she and I really had.

I no longer have a relationship with my mother. I am a mother now of a wonderful 8-year-old boy. No man comes before my child. He is my world. I would die if anything ever happened to him. I have taught him to speak up if anyone ever touches him inappropriately. I have also taught him to do whatever it takes to defend himself in a bad situation.

I
never blamed myself for what happened. I was five years old, and a happy child.
Lester took my innocence away.

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Disclaimer: To the best of my knowledge the child abuse
stories on this site are true. While I cannot guarantee
this, I do try to balance the need for the submitter to be
heard and validated with the needs of my visitors.